


Some moments where Akaashi lets his guard down

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji-centric, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Comfort Reading, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, M/M, Pining, lol this is just projecting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28743762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Just some cute scenes that are loosely connected
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	Some moments where Akaashi lets his guard down

The victorious screams that echoed through the arena, by this point sounding like one loud continuous string of noise, made his brain fuzzy. Unreliable. He needed to step away and recoup. He stared at his feet, trying and failing to distract his wailing head by observing the pattern on his shoes, how it fit against the large, glossy, scuffed floor. The way Bokuto kept glancing at him was answer enough that they were going to have a talk after this.

Not that there will be any malice or frustration whenever he does manage to corner Akaashi. There would be nothing but care and concern, like always, but that was somehow worse.

He really wanted to leave.

The time for shaking hands came far too slowly, every second seemed to drag on. Though when it did come, he realized he didn’t want to be touched. At all.

He forced himself to steady his demeanor and look each opposing player in the eye. The clammy warmth of each hand felt like a brush of nausea. Everything was over-stimulating him. Even his own clothes. Even his own skin.

Though he is anything but not experienced in such emotional repression. His years of practice were a gift in moments like these. If he were to assume anything from the expressions of the opponents, he can say with relief they were none the wiser ( well, it could be just the expected obliviousness of exhausted teenaged boys, but he remained thankful.) Nonetheless, Akaashi swallowed back the uncomfortable sting of tears, to stop the lump from choking him. A fleeting desire wished it would.

Their team left to go to the large common area for the winning teams. The energy they each held and exuded served only to provide guilt, that he couldn't be on their well-deserved high because his head decided to shut down. It was far too loud still.

Akaashi stayed behind as if searching for a water fountain, then walked briskly away.

On the way there, his head was throbbing in a dizzying fog, and he could feel every pulse of his heart, practically vibrating his eyes out of his sockets. He didn’t want to cry, and he wouldn’t. Not now. The walls he walked past became distant shapes, not even colors. Even with all the degrading whispers (each worse than the rest) shooting around his brain, he still made sure to keep his face. His mask. His familiar technique, one he easily falls back on. He had never been happier to see a boy's restroom.

He briefly checked under the stalls, to see if anyone would bother him, and was relieved to find he would be in peace. Or as close to it as he could ever be right now.

It always felt demeaning to cry on a toilet. This sort of thing isn't a frequent occurrence, but he's experienced it enough to know how he feels about it. It's a vulnerable seat to sit in, and a vulnerable state to be seen in. It was like an added punishment to feel those soft corners push against his padded legs. Tears streamed, one after the other. 

Through his blurry eyes, and an attempt at regaining his calm, he decided to check his phone. Nothing important enough to hinder his state. Though, nothing in his life was important. Not really. Well, nothing except-

“Akaashi, you in here?”

His hands stiffened, almost dropping his phone before his joints locked into place out of shock. He fought the alarming urge to lift up his feet and huddle onto the toilet seat to hide. Like a child.

Of course. He should've expected Bokuto to catch up with him eventually afterwards. He should've done better at calming himself to avoid this interaction.

After a moment of held breath, there was a knock at his stall. _Humiliating_ , he thought.

“...I think these are your shoes here...Can you come out for a sec?” He pauses, then added “...if this is Akaashi.”

The exhilarating wave of affection was not surprising. But really any feeling he would have in this state is just destined to be reused as a painful yet fresh batch of tears. And painful tears there were. He scrunched his eyes shut and forced his throat to be silent.

Bokuto was quiet, mumbled something to himself, then said “Well if this isn’t Akaashi, uh, say something. If it is, then...then just listen to what I have to say.”

The words made his heart thump, as expected; bile rose in his throat, also expected. Akaashi opened his eyes and hugged his chest, his thumb stroking his arm. He was overwhelmingly grateful for this small mercy, no matter how small it probably is to Bokuto himself. 

After a beat passed, Bokuto took his answer in stride and began to speak.

“Listen.” He said. “I appreciate you.”

Akaashi swallowed. Bokuto’s feet shuffled. He was probably leaning against the wall now.

“I...appreciate you.” He hesitated. “I appreciate that you respect me, I appreciate that you are so patient with me, I appreciate how much energy you spend on making sure I’m ok. I appreciate what you do for me more than you’ll probably ever know. But...”

Ah, this affection is dangerous. Especially now, where every kind word Akaashi heard was being used as ammunition against himself. As more reasons to be frustrated and disappointed. He looked at the stall door, awaiting his next word.

Bokuto sighed. “You have to understand. This is...a mutual thing. I’m not nearly as good as you are about this stuff, but you can’t expect our friendship to rely on you taking care of me.” He was quiet for a moment.

“I mean... I care about you, ‘Kaashi, and I want you to be happy too. It sucks for me when I see you hurting.”

Akaashi felt his vision blurring even more, so much that his eyes started stinging. 

Finally, Bokuto cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to help best, but I... I‘m not just someone to take care of, Y’know. I’m here to take care of you too. I want to take care of you.”

A fresh round of tears slid in tracks down his flushed cheeks. He didn’t mean it to be demeaning, he knew that. He meant it to be nice and thoughtful and wonderful as always, because it comes so easily to him. Akaashi felt his mind tear itself apart, one part bitter and miserable that Bokuto even feels the need to say this, the other still sending him those awful thoughts, the ones that started this whole thing to begin with.

Akaashi thought about staying silent, hoping Bokuto would leave him to calm down. But...

Bokuto cleared his throat. “I, uh, I hope that this was Akaashi. I was talking to. Because. That’d.” He shuffled again. “That’d be a little embarrassing.”

A quiet but persistent feeling of _I adore him._

He wiped his eyes and nose again. Standing up to unlock the door suddenly didn’t feel like the start of an emotional avalanche. Akaashi felt put together enough to see him. He deserved to give his friend at least that.

Though the second he looked at him, his courage retreated, and he was left feeling vulnerable and scared (of what?) and wishing Bokuto didn’t have to see him like this.

Cheerful and radiant as ever, Bokuto gave him a small grin.

“I’m happy you came out of there, I seriously thought I just said all that to some random guy.” Akaashi didn’t feel like smiling at the light joke. Bokuto’s unwavering happy expression told him that he didn’t need to.

Akaashi looked at the ground, the weak bathroom lights suddenly becoming too bright to look at through this watered eyes. Or so he told himself. “Thank you for saying that. You didn’t have to.” His voice sounded a little rough through his attempt at ironing it out.

A soft hum. Then “I hope you didn’t think I said that just to make you feel better.” Bokuto had gotten quieter, a volume he doesn't use often. Another mercy, loud noises were not what Akaashi needed right now. “I said that because it’s true, and I think relying on me wouldn’t be half as bad as you think it’d be.”

Akaashi felt too many things, too many emotions, had too many doubts. It was even louder. It was even brighter. The urge to sit down and bury his head in his arms to make it all stop was ever consistent.

He still looked at the ground. He saw Bokuto’s feet make a hesitant move to move closer to his defeated form.

“I...can I touch you?”

Akaashi’s eyes scrunched, so grateful for the question. “Y-yes.”

Immediately, warmth. Strong and unyielding. Solid and there and present. He always forgot how nice a hug truly can be. He doesn't do it often.

Bokuto’s slow release of air, like a way of encouraging Akaashi to take a deep breath, was wonderfully cleansing. Akaashi decided to listen, breathing him in, drying sweat and odor, (none of which bothered him in the slightest) all combined with _him_. Something safe and spiced and perfect.

Akaashi let his arms slowly wrap around the solid body pressed (respectfully) against him. It was like clinging to a tree. In almost a literal sense, it was like holding on to a rock. The bubbles of unexpected joy that threatened to escape in giggles and nonsense noises were firmly held back, replaced with a new wave of sadness.

He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be understood. Accepted like this. Forgiven (for what though?)

He felt like pushing Bokuto away, screaming. Causing an uncomfortable scene, maybe come up with a more black-and-white excuse for his behavior. Something unrelated to these occasional breakdowns of his. Something less embarrassing than what was actually the problem.

_I hate this_

That split-second urge was something completely unlike himself, and something he knew he wouldn't forgive himself for afterwards. He needed to hold off these impulsive feelings somehow, there was too much happening inside. He shouldn't let Bokuto see anything more than this, as this was bad enough as it is.

He continued slowly breathing in and out, which he offhandedly realized was synced with Bokuto’s, as if it was coaching Akaashi through.

Beneath his hands, Akaashi felt strength. Power. Something he fears he’ll never have himself. It’s coiled tight, ready to snap at any second, and Akaashi can feel it unwavering under the jersey’s fabric.

The hidden part of Akaashi that wanted nothing but trouble felt like digging this nails as deep as he could, to feel how much give there really was (there wasn’t). He wanted the broad muscles and tendons to shift with the need to fight back, to hear Bokuto let out a hiss of pain right by his ear.

In a more emotional, shameful sense, he wanted Bokuto to be as emotionally distraught as he was right now.

Any thought of bringing him down to his level was instantly banished, because he was now pulled flush against the other’s chest, no longer any distance. Like their hearts could beat against each other.

As tense as his own body still felt, it was really hard to stay that way when someone was pulling you so close to them, it left no room for hiding or pretending. And unfortunately, Akaashi felt more ready to let his tears fall than ever before, to let it come out with none of his mind-blocks stopping him.

Of course, Bokuto probably wasn’t thinking along those lines. Or at least not on that level. Physical affection came natural to Bokuto, it makes sense that he’d use it as a way to help someone.

So he let the tears flow, silent but persistent, soaking into the sweaty Jersey.

They stood there in the bathroom, definitely far longer than someone else would deem normal. Or anyone really. It was nice, therapeutic, and by the time Bokuto began to pull back, Akaashi felt a genuine smile threaten to break. He bit his cheek to contain it.

Bokuto had his hands resting on Akaashi’s shoulders now, gazing at his face, probably searching for any more wounds to heal.

In his light-hearted inspection, he must’ve noticed his cheek, because suddenly a warm thumb brushed against the indent. Akaashi couldn’t help his hitched breath or his involuntary flinch. He knew his eyes probably looked puffy and red, his skin too wet and tender to touch. Too sickly.

But there was no judgement or disgust in those eyes. Just something sweet, something unconditional.

Akaashi felt like smiling even more, and bit down harder. The pain didn’t bother him one bit.

“You’re allowed to smile if you want, ‘Kaashi.” He said with barely hidden triumph, like he was pleased that his efforts worked so well. “You have a nice smile.”

Akaashi wasn’t going to acknowledge how the praise sent heat that spread through his pumping blood, or the way his heart was jumping up his throat from all this contact, or how he felt like holding Bokuto’s hand to his mouth, pressing every inch to his lips. Instead he let his cheek go from between his teeth, and gave him a small smile.

Bokuto looked satisfied.

“ ‘Kaaashi....kiss?”

Off-handed remarks such as these have Akaashi‘s ears and cheeks grow warm uncomfortably, his stomach knotting, as he had plenty before. 

But he has learned how best to cope with his body’s response to this from the many occasions Bokuto had said this, so he instead calmly swallows down the remnant jitters from the sentence alone (a reaction he’ll probably always have no matter how many times he hears it) and looks up.

“No thank you.”

Today they were walking home from the bus stop, as they usually do. They had stayed later than the rest of the team, as they usually did, and Bokuto was eating the snacks he had stored in his bag, as he usually would.

Bokuto wasn’t too different from most boys in sense of preferred snacks, Akaashi has noted. He always brought two water bottles, of course. Sometimes it was gummy snacks, sometimes it was a half-eaten bag of chips.

Occasionally he brought a handful of chocolate kisses, and today was one of those days.

Beside him, there was a quiet crinkling of the wrapper. It was endearing, as was the adorable little “om” he made when he popped it into his mouth.

On the days he brought in the kisses, Bokuto would always offer to share, posing the question the same and not changing the phrasing one bit. Akaashi always meant to ask him why he did that. 

Though there was nothing particularly special about today, he absently decided now was a good time as any to ask.

“Bokuto-san.” He said. “Why do you only share the kisses?”

The older looked at him with wide innocent eyes, cheeks stuffed. “Mm?” 

Akaashi fiddled with his hands behind his back. Yes, that question was worded weird.

“You never share the other snacks, only those. Why is that?” He wasn’t sure what to expect as an answer, and realized it was a dumb question anyhow. He should’ve kept his mouth shut and pretended not to notice it. 

As if he doesn’t take note of every little thing Bokuto says and does.

Bokuto swallowed his snack and fiddled with the wrapper on the next chocolate, staring thoughtfully ahead of him. Bokuto could be such an enigma. He probably doesn’t know why he says or does things the way he does either.

Akaashi liked observing him when he was actively trying to construct a thought. It was beautiful in the way looking at the stars could be.

When the other was satisfied with his reached conclusion, he turned back to Akaashi. “They’re my favorite candy, so I like to share them.”

It was truly nothing too remarkable to say, and yet Akaashi blinked, memorizing the new fact. Frankly, they seemed too plain to be a favorite of Bokuto’s.

“I didn’t know they were your favorite.” He quickly thought of his own history with chocolate kisses, and couldn’t find a memory where they were anything special to him. “Why is that?”

Bokuto smiled at him and plopped the chocolate in his mouth. “Cu’sh.” He spoke around the chocolate. “D’ey’re pre’dd’y. Duh.”

Akaashi felt a smile threaten to spread, so he looked down at the sidewalk, watching their feet unknowingly walk together in synch. “How on earth can a candy be pretty, Bokuto-San...?” He replied, in a voice far too fond.

“Simple.” Bokuto said after swallowing. “It looks like rain.”

“Rain?”

“Yeah.” Bokuto stopped walking, turning to Akaashi. “Can I see your hand?”

Akaashi stopped fiddling his hands together, but held one out all the same. Bokuto took Akaashi’s wrist into his warm palm. The warmth fluttered through him, pulsing. They were probably sweaty...

Bokuto held the wrist so the blue marbled veins faced the sky, then raised his own other hand above his head. “Imagine this is a raindrop.”

He let his hand slowly drift down, softly landing his fingertips into Akaashi’s palm, then spreading them with a tingle-inducing gentility. Akaashi felt his hand tickle, but made no move to remedy it, instead remaining entranced and unable to look away from the demonstration.

Bokuto stopped his fingers, holding them in place in a curved dome shape over Akaashi’s palm. “It looks like a raindrop right here, right when it’s about to spread into a lot of tiny drops.” He drops the arch in his own wrist, now just sandwiching Akaashi’s willing hand between his.

“I think it’s a pretty shape, don’t’cha think, ‘Kaashi?” He smiled, still holding Akaashi’s hand, still staring at him with those big pretty eyes, still causing Akaashi’s heart to work overtime (begging for a rest.) 

Akaashi blinked hopelessly. Distantly, he heard a flock of birds flying.

“I see.” He finally managed out after swallowing down the tender lump rising from his chest. His hand grew incredibly damp between Bokuto’s. 

The only thing that broke his stupor was the worrying possibility that Bokuto may feel his racing pulse. He pulled his hand away to stiffly rest by his side, and began to walk again. Bokuto followed.

“And obviously, they taste super good.” Bokuto asserted. “It’s just a chunk of chocolate, what can go wrong?” 

Akaashi nodded.

They fell into a comfortable silence after this. Each step lead them closer to the way Akaashi was to go home. He wanted to say something else, but figured he’d spoken enough.

Thankfully, Bokuto thought otherwise. “I don’t know yours, ‘Kaashi, what about you?”

“My what?”

“Candy!”

He bit back another smile. It was such a silly question to be of such importance to his dear friend. Cute.

“I actually don’t have much of a sweet tooth.” He answered honestly. He had never been a fan of candy in general.

Bokuto gasped with his ever-present dramatic flair. “What? Jeez, you sound so adult.” He tsked. “So you don’t eat candy at all? Not even chocolate?

Now that he thought about it, it had been a while since he had anything very sweet.

Suddenly, that warm hand held out a silvery candy in front of him. “Eat. Eat this, ‘Kaashi. Before you start talking about taxes or something.” He took it.

When he fixed Bokuto with a look of amusement, the other huffed. “I know you said you didn’t want one, but you obviously need it.”

He really shouldn’t be so delighted by Bokuto’s insistence, but he found himself unwrapping it just the same. A comfy feeling rolled over him as the little treat revealed itself. He felt like a child.

Popping it in his mouth was nostalgic in a way he didn’t expect. Had it really been that long since he tasted a chocolate kiss? The satisfying give of the rapidly melting chocolate made him sigh.

Akaashi swallowed it down, then turned back to Bokuto. He was looking at him with some expression he couldn’t exactly place, but the attention made his cheeks flush.

“You were right. Not bad.” He realized they had stopped by his turn. “I guess they can be good occasionally.”

The look in Bokuto’s face disappeared as quickly as it came, a smile spreading across his face. 

“You’re such a nerd, can’t believe you forgot what good chocolate tastes like.” He teased. Akaashi rolled his eyes. This time, he couldn’t stop his own smile from escaping. He didn’t bother biting his cheek.

Bokuto laughed softly. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” He brushed against Akaashi’s shoulder. “I’ll bring a whole bag of it tomorrow.”

It was more or less a free day for him.

He lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, tracing the dried swirls and squiggles. It proved too much movement for his eyes, and he found his eyelids getting heavier and heavier.

*

Dark pleasure, that’s all he could feel. Hot, more, there. 

He saw that with every shift of his eyes, his vision lagged. Everything was foggy and almost unrecognizable. Like an old damaged tape. 

But that wasn’t what gave away that this was a dream.

His rock. Solid and strong. He knew it was him. This kind of power was what he felt under his skin whenever they touched, coiled tight and ready to snap. 

He couldn’t see what was happening, at this point all he could see was outlines. Everything else was fading to an unnoticeable gray. But what he could feel and hear was a different story.

He could hear skin slapping. He could feel their skin slapping. Better yet, he could feel why they were slapping. There was something hard inside of him, moving in and out, in and out, fast and desperate. 

Bokuto was above him, he knew this, and that’s how he knew it was a dream. 

Akaashi could vaguely tell what this was, but if he thought it with any more clarity, he was afraid it would go away.

He felt carnality like he never experienced. There was no up, there was no down, there was only the cock in his hole, ravaging his walls with intoxicating desperation and greed.

He wanted to moan and cry, to let out his desires. To make Bokuto hungry. He also wants to look down, he wants to see. He can’t, but oh does he want to.

His hands try to reach out in the dream, but they only curl by his sides, even though they yearn to touch. To feel Bokuto’s skin, and all the delicious, powerful muscles capably flexing with such intensity. To feel the hard ridges and dips, formed by passion and drive. The soft hairs on his chest and abdomen, guiding him towards the axis of Akaashi’s new world.

Akaashi would probably do anything Bokuto told him right now, however shameless. If Bokuto were to breathe under his ear, tell him to get on his fucking knees, spread open his pretty sopping hole, he would do it. If he were to pull out, tell Akaashi to hump his little cock on Bokuto’s thigh until he moaned and writhed, until he trembled through his orgasm, he would absolutely do it without question.

Bokuto’s noises were surrounding him. They sounded suspiciously like some of the noises that made Akaashi stiffen in team practice, but he didn’t complain. 

His endless stamina and excitement, his determination to make Akaashi squeal and whimper, it was too much. He wanted to last longer for Bokuto, but his dick kept pounding that perfect spot inside, again and again and again and again and again, oh god again and-

Akaashi jerked awake. For a couple seconds, he was extremely confused as to why the wonderful licks in his loins were dying down, why Bokuto wasn’t here.

He was mildly pissed to remember it was a dream he had just woken from (he knew it was but still), but fully pissed it was because his leg had twitched him out. He glared at the offending limb as if that would change anything. He let out a long breath, falling back onto the pillows.

The movement reminded him that he still has a problem in his boxers, something rather distracting and almost painful at this point.

He pulled his fluffy comforter up to his lips, settling into the comfy warm bed, and let a hand trace around his boxers. He liked doing it this way, it felt like a dirty secret. It was also easier to imagine...someone there with him, maybe under the covers, leaving Akaashi jumpy and wanting for his next touch.

His fingers felt good. The gentle patterns over the cloth made his eyes flutter shut. He had a couple fantasies about his Bokuto-san. Well, not a couple, but he did have some favorites. 

He let his hand slide into his boxers, his toes curling. He let his mind wander.

In one fantasy, Bokuto and he would be alone. It would be dark, both outside and in the room, save for the bright light of a tv screen. They would have spent the day together, finally winding down with something they both enjoyed, and making it theirs by adding commentary and banter to almost every second.

At one point, something sexual on screen may awaken some lust-driven desires, ideas to be carried out in the late night.

Maybe Akaashi would yawn in a provoking way, stretch and make as many small and seemingly innocent noises as possible. Soft sounds and more playful touching. 

Bokuto would probably pretend not to notice and not comment (because he’s a gentleman kind of) but Akaashi’s evidence would be in between the other’s legs. 

Maybe after a particularly breathy little sigh, Bokuto would make a joke about being cold, and grab a blanket. Akaashi would notice it. 

In his bed, Akaashi had moved his hand faster.

Bokuto would probably mention how late it is as an excuse, maybe try to shower first (they were spending the night together as good ole pals in this fantasy) for reasons Akaashi suspected to be dirty.

In this part of the fantasy, Akaashi would not so subtlety change the subject into jerking off, introduced as a lighthearted joke and ending with high sexual tension. It differs from time to time who would make the first move afterwards in this particular fictional scenario, but tonight Akaashi would make it Bokuto.

He, of course, would never actually make his first move like that. Bokuto may be cocky, but he isn’t presumptuous or overbearing when it comes to other people. Bokuto’s honest effort in befriending Akaashi proved him to have a great understanding and respect of boundaries. He knew he wouldn’t begin any romantic endeavor of his with something so bold.

He also could guess that, despite his dream’s depiction, Bokuto would probably never be so...rough. So dirty. So filthy when...when doing that sort of thing.

For the sake of relieving himself, he ignored reality and focused on his fantasy.

Bokuto would pause what they were watching to focus completely on Akaashi, silence drowned out only by their rushing blood and pounding hearts.

Akaashi’s hand was stroking much faster, and the haze of arousal made him skip ahead to the good part. 

Bokuto would have him pinned against the couch like a butterfly. His solid body would be flushed against his, as if trying to hide what he was doing. His lips would be parted against Akaashi’s, panting. In a steadfast grip in the limited space between them, Bokuto’s hand would be rubbing under Akaashi’s boxers, fast, tight strokes, the ones that made him jolt and curl into a ball against the other.

In real time, Akaashi had the comforter down to expose his chest. He was about to cum, and the image of Bokuto whispering hot filth against his mouth, holding his limbs down as if forcing him to feel the pleasure, it was all too much.

Akaashi’s free hand shot out to grapple for a tissue, and with his eyes scrunched and muscles clenched, his mouth opened to let out a silent cry, pumping out all he had. Shivers and tingles and the best kind of shocks made his thighs come together and trap his hand, keeping it there, riding it out. Sooo good...

It wasn’t bad, better than what he’s given himself in a while, he thought as he let his toes and finger uncurl. All the times Bokuto had been the subject to these little sessions made him more eager to actually experience what it’d be like if they touched like that. 

Especially now that the heat had cooled. He wanted to kiss him. A lot. He wanted to wrap his arms around Bokuto and bring him close, holding onto him like a warm body pillow. He wanted to settle deep into his neck under the warm safety of the comforter, in the blanket of the night. 

Instead he was alone, listening to his own breath, and staring at the ceiling.

•••

“Question”

Akaashi looked up.

It was just them in the locker room. They hadn’t been in here long after the others had left, Bokuto was just taking a little longer than usual. Akaashi figured they’d be leaving soon.

Bokuto was leaning against his locker staring ahead, deep in thought again. Beautiful.

Akaashi set his phone down. “Shoot.” He muttered.

“How would you feel if I dated someone?”

Akaashi blinked.

Getting over the initial shock, he swallowed and casually raised his phone up again.

It was beginning to feel like someone had a hand wrapped around his heart, and was forcefully dragging it down into his stomach. That was the only way to describe it.

“Well.” he droned, searching for an app to scroll through. “I would congratulate you and support you however I could.” 

Bokuto was quite attractive, it wasn’t exclusive to his personality. Anyone could see that. It wasn’t too rare for Bokuto to be included in the girls flirtatious jokes, or to receive a nervous confession. 

Despite the evidence, Akaashi has never seen him accept any advances. At first it was because he figured Bokuto was, frankly, a bit too immature to commit to a relationship. He found it to be untrue given their history and Bokuto’s genuine dedicated loyalty. 

Now he thinks that Bokuto just wants to focus on volleyball, which is perfectly fine.

It was only a guess though, as it was impossible to think of any other reason.

It was only a matter of time before Bokuto actually gave into his hormones and started dating a pretty girl. Someone kind and funny and loving, someone radiant enough to catch his full attention. Akaashi knew this. He knew this, and yet...

Bokuto crosses his thick arms, curling tight over his chest. “‘Kaashi, I didn’t ask what you would do, I asked how you would feel.” 

He walked over to where Akaashi sat stiffly, standing in front of him with an expression only to be described as...well actually, he doesn’t know. It was rather hard to describe, as he’d never seen it on him before.

This was so out of the blue, Akaashi wasn’t entirely sure what was happening. Bokuto was acting awful weird about a pretty normal question. 

No, not pretty normal. This question seemed targeted. Like he had a motive.

Akaashi blinked uselessly. As awful as the question made him feel, he couldn’t stop his heart from flopping in his chest (like a dead useless fish) at their closeness. At the unfamiliarity of the situation.

He gripped his phone tight. “I...am not entirely sure what you’re asking.” He was hoping Bokuto would respond, but he instead just raised an eyebrow. Akaashi swallowed again. “I would feel whatever my actions portrayed me to be.”

Bokuto sighed and sat beside him, no longer looking at him. Akaashi cleared his throat. “I would feel supportive, I guess. I would feel-“ he clenches his fist “-happy.”

At this Bokuto looked at him in the corner of his eye. “You would feel happy.” It wasn’t said like a question, more like a statement he was trying to make sense of.

Akaashi hesitated. “Yes. I would feel happy for you.” He fully turned towards Bokuto. “I don’t know what you’re getting at. What am I supposed to say?”

Bokuto faced him as well. “I just want an honest answer on how you would feel if I dated someone.”

His brain concocted a thousand possibilities that may have fueled this question. But he kept coming back to one conclusion, and it made him feel empty just to think it. Like someone had pulled a plug, draining.

“Bokuto-san, are you interested in someone?”

Bokuto’s eyes widened, searching Akaashi’s face for something disagreeable. Akaashi tried not to reveal anything, and found it wasn’t that hard when you feel the hollow chill that numbness brings. 

When Bokuto found nothing, he pursed his lips and glanced away.

“I think so.”

Empty.

Akaashi stood up without thinking. “That’s exciting, isn’t it? In the time I’ve known you, you’ve never even considered dating before.” He was quick to grab his things to leave the locker room, hoping Bokuto would follow his example. Hoping to get home as soon as possible. “...she must be pretty amazing.”

He was hoping that Bokuto wouldn’t try to look him in the eye for a couple minutes. Not to say he couldn’t hold back the tears, but it would be a real struggle to keep his voice from breaking if he had to look at him.

“Yeah.” Came the voice behind him. Akaashi said nothing else.

Bokuto had gotten up, thankfully, zipping his bag up and making his way towards where Akaashi stood.

•  
•  
•

Akaashi hadn’t been doing well since then.

For one, it was taking longer for him to do anything, scattered minutes of staring at nothing. Thinking, he supposes. Homework was becoming more of a chore than ever, even in the classes he liked. 

He was sure there was no noticeable difference. No matter how far gone he was into that terrible shadowed space of his mind, it would go against years of practice to just let his emotions run free. He didn’t like any attention he got from his weaknesses, and that will not change now.

Since he found out Bokuto may be attracted to someone, probably (definitely) a girl, he felt like breathing had gotten difficult as well. 

It wasn’t a mindless rhythm anymore. It was a task that he had to remind himself to do a time too many this past week.

Maybe it became less of a manual priority (breathing?? Really??) because taking a breath didn’t feel as refreshing anymore. It only brought attention to the heavy pull in his stomach. A pit.

Things like stepping out of a hot shower and into the cool hall, a feeling he used to enjoy, became an irritant, the sudden temperature change serving only to aggravate him. The weight of his comforter now felt suffocating, overbearing. 

Everything was overstimulating, and could quickly become threatening and wrong. All Akaashi could do was act as if it wasn’t. 

He made extra sure to be unbothered and desensitized at practice. He didn’t figure everyone would be too concerned about him if he were to act more distant than usual, but still. Most importantly, Bokuto didn’t notice anything, as he predicted. He could be very oblivious, more so than as expected from a teenaged boy. 

After a couple weeks of going through the motions, repressing it all, finding glimmers of achievement and satisfaction in completing school work and pleasing his friends, he found himself in Bokuto’s kitchen. 

Regrettably, Akaashi couldn’t handle going over to his house since the day in the locker room. He couldn’t handle it, stepping inside to a warm home, the...familiar (intoxicating) scent that is so him. Seeing the photos sprinkled about of Bokuto as a jovial, wild little kid. And definitely his room, where he sleeps and endearingly forgets to take out all the littered empty water bottles and whines to Akaashi about schoolwork over the phone and...

In a way, he forced himself into it. It would be too suspicious if Bokuto had to convince him to come over, so here he was sitting at the counter, watching Bokuto pace around and rant about his day. 

He bit his cheek to hold in his smile as Bokuto absentmindedly picked up objects and placed them down again as he spoke, as if they were props (He was supposed to be grabbing snacks to eat while they did some homework. Cute, cute, cute-)

“‘Kaashiii...” he said, breaking Akaashi’s trance. “I told you to stop biting yourself, looks so painful.” 

Akaashi blinked. “I’m not.”

Bokuto made a show of rolling his eyes, putting whatever he had in his hands on the counter (a spatula) and walked around to where Akaashi sat.

“Yeah? What’s this then?” He teased, now close, so very close, to Akaashi, and tracing his thumb over the indented cheek. 

Akaashi’s poor, gay little heart began to flutter against his chest, like a frantic bird in a cage. Bokuto had done this a while ago, after a game, and it still made his head dizzy. His eyesight a little fuzzy. 

Once again, like all those months ago, his touch, the delicious taste of affection, made it much harder to resist those urges of his. Not that he could let Bokuto know that.

“Mm, sorry, I forgot. A habit, I guess.” He mumbled. 

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Probably. I don’t notice it too much.”

“How do you not notice your teeth digging into your cheek like that? Isn’t it sensitive?”

“It might’ve been once.”

A pause. Akaashi stiffly waited, on edge for Bokuto to move away. The urge to nuzzle into the strong palm was...getting hard to deal with.

Except this time Bokuto didn’t move his hand away, he kept it there. The thumb stopped. 

The bells in his head were ringing with alarm. The hand was now gently traced down, now cupping his chin. He was so stiff, he really couldn’t help his mouth falling open just a bit, as it was getting harder to take full calming breaths through his nose alone.

Bokuto pursed his lips. It looked like there was something else he wanted to say, if his furrowed brow were anything to go by. But he said nothing else. Just stood there.

In the the back of Akaashi’s mind, he was sure it was a day dream. It was well beyond the time when Bokuto should’ve stepped away, but here they were.

Akaashi swallowed down his rushing heart. “Bokuto-san, what is it?” His voice came out breather than usual. Not that Bokuto could tell.

Bokuto suddenly gave a sharp inhale. “Ah.” He stepped away. “My bad, I forgot what I was gonna say.”

“No it’s...fine.”

It was pretty quiet. Well, in the house at least. Akaashi’s pounding blood was still echoing in his ears, thudding like a drum.

Bokuto looked unsure of himself. It wasn’t the typical fleeting insecurity that Akaashi was used to seeing from him. It was...discomfort.

“Uh....” he looked away, hand coming to rub at his neck. “Actually, I did wanna talk to you about something.”

Oh god. “Mm hm?” He said. He wasn’t positive how his voice would sound if he were to speak right now.

Bokuto looked back at Akaashi. “You’ve been kinda off lately. I was just wondering if it was something I did, is all.” He gave a weak smile. “I don’t ever want you to feel weird around me, y’know?

Akaashi’s eyes widened. His hand shot up to cover his fake cough, which masked the embarrassing, involuntary squeak he felt bubbling up. 

How did he know?! Was Akaashi not careful enough?? He was positive he hadn’t made any slip ups, unless everyone else knew. God he hoped Bokuto didn’t tell the team his suspicions in hopes of having some sort of...friend intervention. 

How should he handle this? He didn’t want to deny Bokuto’s suspicions, that would be quite disrespectful of his feelings, as well as their friendship. But at the same time, he can’t exactly tell Bokuto what’s been in his head for the last couple weeks, can he?

“Oh, was I obvious?” He laughed nervously. “I’ve been stressed for a few weeks, school and all.” In a way, that’s not a lie. “I’m surprised you noticed, I thought I was keeping it to myself pretty well. I am sorry, I hope you didn’t worry too much.” Truthfully, not a lie at all.

He couldn’t tell if Bokuto was convinced or not, but he did look less tense.

“That’s better than what I was thinking then.” Bokuto walked away towards the fridge. “Sucks you’ve been stressed, you’re so smart...the work must be really tough, huh?” 

As Bokuto grabbed some water bottles, Akaashi couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Especially with that first remark.

“I’m curious, what did you think I was upset about?” He said as causally as possible. The second it left his mouth, he was filled with regret. He should’ve left it alone, this was treading dangerous ground.

Bokuto turned to him hesitantly. A fake smile. “I thought it might‘ve had to do with what we talked about in the locker room that one time.” 

His blood went cold. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything. Of course, any person with a brain would come to the obvious conclusion, the obvious truth. 

He could fix this. “Why would that bother me?” Akaashi said as amused as possible. (In all actuality he was terrified) He was banking on Bokuto being caught off guard, second guessing himself, and saying nothing more about it. He’ll just shrug his shoulders and move on. 

“Well I don’t know, why would it bother you if I dated someone?” 

Shit

Akaashi looked up. This was unnerving. It almost sounded like he was being...coy. As if he already knew the answer, and was now just humoring him. 

He didn’t hold back his eyes squinting in thought. Bokuto was still smiling at him. Except, based on his crinkled eyes, it was real this time. Amusement.

Akaashi huffed and turned away. “It wouldn’t, you can obviously date whoever you want, Bokuto-san.”

The fridge closed. “Yeah, figured you’d say that.” Bokuto sighed. Akaashi looked pointedly at the floor. He wasn’t going to try and clear suspicion or anything at this point. He didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t want to make it worse for himself. So he remained silent.

A loud clap on his back made him jump. “Well anyways, let’s go upstairs. I have some questions on this thing I was supposed to be working on for a while now.”

Akaashi swallowed his anxious heart and got up. “I can help. When’s it due?”

“Ahh...tomorrow? I think, I don’t know for sure.”

“Bokuto-san.”

••••

Today he and Bokuto were in his own room. 

It was actually less comfortable for Akaashi than it would be had they been in Bokuto’s room. He knew he didn’t have any physical evidence of his infatuation, but he still had the lingering fear that Bokuto would pull something long forgotten out from under his bed and ask “what’s this?” Truly a nightmarish (though impossible) scenario.

Bokuto didn’t tell him why he just had to come over today, nor the reason for it. All he said was he “needed to chill” and promptly came over.

Right now Bokuto was laying on his bed, curled up over the comforter and sleepily rambling about the colleges who seemed interested in him. Akaashi sat at his desk, quietly listening while doing his math assignment. 

Bokuto was pretty sleepy. He seemed to be lulling himself into exhaustion with every word he spoke, peppering soft yawns throughout. Akaashi couldn’t do much else but steal longing glances at the boy in his bed. 

It was god awful whenever he forced himself to look away, as it wouldn’t look good if he abandoned his school work in favor of blatantly staring like he wanted. He’s much rather keep his eyes on him, almost anxious to look away. As if the sight might disappear.

As his heart pounded faintly in his ears, he imagined a world where he could slide beside him and pull him close. Till they were so close that their combined breath felt like steam against their necks. A world where eyelashes would brush against his skin with every soft kiss. The more he got lost in the daydream, the fuzzier his head felt.

“Hey” came lowly next to him. “Where’d you go?”

Akaashi blinked, only managing a hum in response. Bokuto’s lidded gaze and fluffy hair and smushed cheek, giving him jittery flutters in his chest. This felt comfortably domestic, and his heart ached for it.

“What were you thinkin’ about?” Bokuto said, sounding like a whisper. It echoed in the quiet room.

Akaashi put his long-forgotten pencil down. “Math, I think.”

“Yea?”

He nodded.

They looked at each other. It was another moment where Akaashi just couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

Still managing to surprise Akaashi, Bokuto scooted further away on his side, lightly tapping the space beside him.

“C’mere.”

Akaashi didn’t feel like hesitating, testament to how every muscle he had prepared to stand up from his seat, but his stupid brain kept him still. “What?”

Bokuto shrugged casually and closed his eyes. “You look worn out, ‘Kaashi.” Offering that as an explanation, as if it were the most inconsequential thing to say.

Akaashi bit his cheek. Don’t overthink this. There’s no point. There’s no reason to. Just do it and enjoy while it lasts.

He got up, never looking away from the other’s restful expression, then quietly sat down. As if he would disturb the peace should he make too much noise.

Bokuto’s hand came up and tapped softly on his elbow. “You don’t have to, but it could be kinda nice.” 

Akaashi’s stared at him. He really hoped his body wouldn’t betray him.

He hesitantly layed down. He felt hyper aware of the radiating warmth beside him, feeling awkward and confused on how to position himself.

Deciding to face his back towards Bokuto, he looked straight ahead. Getting his breathing under control was his focus for now. 

“Hey ‘Kaashi, can I touch you?”

God dammit.

Against his better judgement, he repressed a shiver of anticipation (and gratitude for the question) and mumbled “sure.”

Suddenly he felt the bed shift behind him. Soon Bokuto was right behind him. He took a deep breath as his arm laid over Akaashi’s side. 

He felt like he had to hold his breath so Bokuto wouldn’t notice anything. The entirety of his body was alight in nerves and tingling heat. Arousal wasn’t exactly what he was feeling right now, but he found his thighs squeezing together just the same.

As if Bokuto wanted nothing more than to subject him to even more desperate agony, he arm pulled his body a little closer. Akaashi let him, finding it easy to go limp like a doll for whatever Bokuto wanted. 

A nose pressed into his nape. Akaashi’s mouth parted for more air. 

When Bokuto spoke, hot breath fanned over him, the deep timbre resounding close by his ears. “Your heart’s beating so fast.” He whispered. “I can hear it.”

This was really a sensory overload, and for a brief second his composure slipped, just enough for his head to burrow into the pillow beneath him and rasp out a “Quit.” His weak attempt for a defense, for some control.

Bokuto paused briefly before his hand trailed up his near-vibrating chest. Akaashi only clenched his eyes tight and let him. He didn’t know what was happening, if this was real or a joke, but all the same his ankles crossed as his thighs pressed closer together. He was positive he was sweating a bit.

“Bokuto, I don’t...know....what..” He stuttered, breaking the silence, barely keeping himself from falling apart.

The warm hand over his chest played with the fabric beneath it. “Do you want me to stop?” He said.

Akaashi felt like both melting into the bed and bolting towards the door. “No I don’t. I just-“ he turned his head around to face Bokuto. They were so close... 

Bokuto gave a lazy grin, so pretty, his arm falling back beside himself. “What? Never cuddled with a bro before?”

Akaashi took a deep, shaky breath. “Friends don’t...do this sort of thing, Bokuto-san.” His fists were clenched tight.

It came out before he could stop himself, the effect instant in Bokuto’s content expression turning blank.

Akaashi didn’t want this to stop, he couldn’t understand why he said anything. Why did he have to ruin whatever this is, when has Bokuto ever broken his trust? That being said, what’s he thinking? This is too sudden, and for some reason it was all making his anxiety flare up. Too many thoughts, too many questions-

“You’re right.” Bokuto said. He didn’t sound disappointed, but... “sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

No, no. Wait a second- “it’s fine, I’m. It’s just...” god, he could barely speak properly.

Bokuto sat up, stretching his arms above his head, with a pleasant yawn. Akaashi could only bite his cheek to keep from saying something he’d regret. He was too unsure of the situation to make any rash decisions, he had to control himself, no how messy his head was right now. He had to be sure of Bokuto’s intentions. Hell, did he have any?

Certainly not with Akaashi. He is straight, dammit, he has confided in his crushes before, don’t force your own wishes on him.

“‘Kaashi, don’t worry about it. Promise.” He was looking at him with that kind smile again. 

A thumb came out to press against Akaashi’s cheek. “Hey hey, what’d I say about this?” Akaashi instantly released his cheek, unknowing what to say. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Bokuto scooted off the bed, his broad figure casting a shadow with the evening sun from the window. “I should get going, I’m pretty sleepy.” He turned to Akaashi. “Thanks for hanging with me. It means a lot.” He hesitated, then turned.

Once he grabbed his bag and jacket, he lazily waved his fingers. “See you tomorrow!”

Akaashi sat paralyzed for a good minute after he left. And the second he calmed down just a bit, he buried his head into his pillow. He felt like crying for some reason, and his anger towards himself only made it worse. 

Bokuto didn’t do anything wrong. Akaashi messed up a perfectly good opportunity. Cause of his stupid fucking brain. 

There were still a lot of questions flying through his head. It was what he wanted, but was it? He couldn’t tell if Bokuto was intentionally fucking with his head. 

Akaashi truly believed that Bokuto couldn’t hurt someone if he tried. There was nothing malicious about his intentions. So he had to rule that out.

Keeping their past interactions in mind only confused him more. He closed his eyes and decided to steady his breathing instead. In and out, in and out, through his nose, out his mouth, through his nose-

He realized he had buried his head exactly where Bokuto was laying, a soothing, wispy freshness wrapped around him, a burned image of a shooting star flashing through his head.

As he nuzzled deeper into the pillow, he realized he was crying.

•••

If Bokuto felt uncomfortable around him since that day, he did not show it.

He was still hyper-fixated on volleyball, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion almost daily. He was still so wonderfully goofy, able to orchestrate the teams moral into something relentless and powerful (like him) just as well as he could let them loose and make the team laugh their hardest, lightening the atmosphere and bringing everyone a little closer.

Nothing changed between him and Akaashi. Shamefully, he almost wished there would be a noticeable difference, just to know that being somewhat rejected had some effect on him.

He had a strong desire to ask Bokuto’s closest friends if he talked about him at all. He wouldn’t, he’s too self-aware, it’s far too obnoxious and desperate of him. But it was eating Akaashi alive trying to guess what was going on in his head.

Bokuto still touched him like normal, occasional hug, lots of casual touching on his arms, it was as if nothing happened at all.

He didn’t even shy away from asking to hang out. They had practiced and studied together a couple times since then. Today, it was a Friday, and after practicing far after school ended, until the sky turned to a hazy orange, they make their way to the nearest gas station to pick up some junk food. 

Akaashi had personally had a hell of a week in school (probably because he had been neglecting his deteriorating emotional health) and now that it was over, he wanted to indulge in the fleeting satisfaction of his hard work paid off and his favorite snacks with his favorite person.

It was always so nice to spend time with Bokuto. He had such a funny, refreshing way of seeing the world, Akaashi felt so lucky that he of all people got to hang out with someone like him. People like Bokuto probably appeared once in a lifetime, he liked to think fondly, like a shooting star in a sea of murky grey.

Loot in swinging plastic bags, they walked home. The sky was purple now, the sun’s light no longer reaching them, they were instead illuminated by the lights from street lamps and building. It was relatively quiet, and it all just felt like a breath of fresh air.

They walked in silence, conversation quietly dying into something comfortable and safe. They reached Akaashi’s front door. His mother had night shifts so the house was empty. 

Before they went in, Bokuto turned to him. His expression was gloomy. “I wanted to apologize again. Before we go in.” Akaashi blinked before it dawned on him, that Bokuto was bringing it up. God, he really did feel bad, didn’t he?

“Bokuto-san, back then, you asked if-“ Akaashi felt his face flush. He looked at his feet. “...if you could touch me. I would’ve told you if it wasn’t ok.”

Bokuto was obviously not convinced. Akaashi felt ashamed, for causing Bokuto any guilt at all. He felt ashamed for feeling that deep, horribly explainable affection at the thought of Bokuto worrying about him.

Bokuto pursed his lips before saying. “You don’t always say what you mean, Kaashi. I know you, you had that same look you always have when your head gets all...” he loosely shook his hands, a buzzing sound through his teeth, as if to better demonstrate his point. “...Y’know.”

Akaashi couldn’t help the smile across his face. It was impossible not to. It was a beautifully unique Bokuto way of putting it. 

“I was a little too in my head that day, you’re right. But I promise you didn’t do anything I wasn’t ok with. I trust you, Bokuto-san.” 

He still didn’t seem sure, but he nodded just the same. 

After they went inside, it was a pretty relaxed night. The brief tension in the air had melted from the carbonated drinks and spicy snacks. The two had planned on watching movies, but they felt like the night had led more into just talking.

Akaashi felt the rising bubbles of delight move up his throat, which ended up pushing out more words than he would usually say. Bokuto seemed happy too that he was contributing more to the dialogue. 

The sun was completely down by now. Bokuto had promised he’d be home by eleven, and it was nearing that time.

They were out of soda. The snack bags were not empty, but definitely close to being so. Now they sat across from each other. At some point their feet naturally crossed over each other. It was the most peace Akaashi had felt in months.

“Aaah...question.” Bokuto said lazily.

Akaashi looked around for one of his snacks. The spicy cracker things. “Shoot.”

Bokuto gave him the bag he was looking for, without Akaashi having to ask. “What’s your type? You never ever talk about girls, I’ve always wanted to know.”

Akaashi wanted to laugh. “I don’t have too much experience with dating, in case you couldn’t have guessed. So I’m not sure” A fantastic excuse, truly. He gratefully grabbed the bag and pulled out a couple chips.

Bokuto leaned forward, bunching his knees up a bit. “Cmon you’re more creative than that!” He grabbed a stray chocolate kiss and unwrapped it. “If someone were to ask you out right now, what would you want them to be like?”

Akaashi leaned back as he chewed, thoughtfully considering how to be as truthful as possible with his answer.

“I would-“ Yuck, he sounded garbled, he should swallow his snack first. “I would prefer someone who smelled nice.” A dumb answer, but kinda true. After-all, Bokuto did smell really good.

Bokuto smirked, an eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah? Seems pretty vague.”

“You’d be surprised how high of a standard that really is Bokuto.” Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Not everyone can smell like you.”

Ah shit.

“Oho?” He leaned forward. “You sayin I smell good?” 

Akaashi flushed. “It’s not a big deal, don’t let it go to your head.”

“Yeah? But if smelling good is so hard to come by, I fit your type pretty well.” He had a big goofy grin on his face. Akaashi wanted to just. Slap him. Kiss him.

Hearing Bokuto talk about himself as Akaashi’s “type” made his chest ache. He felt weirdly exposed, and realized he had to be more discreet.

He pulled his knees to his chest. “There’s more to it than that. I’m a tad picky, Bokuto-san.” The other hummed, looking at Akaashi with an expression both amused and contemplative. It made him fidget.

“Well, wanna know my type then?”

As if to send himself further into damnation, he nodded without thinking. He didn’t want to know, but at the same time, his shameless desire for this boy whispered words of hope. Maybe he’ll describe someone like you...

Ever oblivious to Akaashi’s instant regret, Bokuto’s smile turned sheepish. “Well...this will sound silly, but I’ve always had a thing for nice hands.” He shrugged. 

“What do you mean by nice?” Akaashi said, trying to subtlety check his own hands. Were they nice at all? He never thought of them as anything but regular hands before, though I guess it can be difficult to look at your body objectively.

Bokuto cleared his throat. “Well, uh. Y’know. Pretty hands.” He held out one hand, as if it were supposed to reference. “My hands aren’t that pretty, they’re kinda...meaty.”

Akaashi understood a bit, though he wouldn’t say at all that Bokuto’s hands couldn’t be considered pretty. They were big and warm, strong and callused, thick lines tracing down into his forearms, separating his knuckles. Yes, attractive...though he could be biased.

Bokuto put his hand back down. He looked like he wanted to say something else. Akaashi wanted to probe further. Not because he wanted to see if his hands fell under Bokuto’s definition of pretty, or anything.

Turns out he didn’t need to. Bokuto hesitantly leaned forward and nodded towards Akaashi’s limp hands. He wordlessly lifted one to Bokuto’s, who now sat closer to better explain.

“You have really nice hands, Akaashi.” He said softly, looking Akaashi’s (probably sweaty) hand over in his own. He was so warm. He was hyper aware of every brush of Bokuto’s fingers, brushing so gently that tingles would shoot up his arm and into his brain, already turned to goop. 

Akaashi just nodded, not daring to look away from their hands. Bokuto continued. “You see how slim your fingers are?” He traced his own up and down Akaashi’s for demonstration. “And how they come off to a long, pointed peak thing?”

His head was filling with fog again, the kind of fog that has lead him nowhere good in the past. “Pianists hands, I think they’re called.” He whispered. Hell, he could’ve shouted it, he wouldn’t be able to tell. He longed for Bokuto to touch him more.

Bokuto’s fingers still traced. “Yeah, I think so.” Then he gently maneuvered Akaashi’s hand to turn over, palm and wrist up. “Your hand is really...soft.”

This was another moment Akaashi felt was going far outside of what normal friends do. He didn’t care to think more about it this time, he just tried to calm his breathing. 

“Aha..” Bokuto said humorlessly. He was fully fixed on Akaashi’s hand now. “Your wrist is so pale... I can see everything.” Without warning, Bokuto’s thumb glided softly over Akaashi’s wrist, over the marbled blue veins. It was...surprisingly sensitive. Out of shock, a small squeak escaped him. His free hand shot to cover his mouth.

Bokuto only smiled. “Yeah, they’re kinda touchy, aren’t they?” No response, but Akaashi was starting to think that acknowledging this atmosphere at all would make Bokuto up and leave again. (Although to be fair, it was more warranted last time.)

“I think that’s because they’re such a...” Bokuto’s two hands now held Akaashi’s between. “...vulnerable spot.”

Akaashi couldn’t tell what he should do. This seemed out of his control. His words made his blood flow hot. Everything was hot. Ah, what was happening?

It was silent. They were still touching. Akaashi wanted to hold his breath but found that he needed air more than ever. His mouth parted a bit.

“B-“ His voice was going to crack, he shut himself up immediately. He hoped the punctuated sound brought Bokuto back to reality. To their reality.

Bokuto blinked. Twice. Then looked at him. Their gaze was locked. Akaashi couldn’t look away if he tried. Enchanting.

Suddenly, a small, helplessly beautiful smile appeared on his face. “I’m, uh. I’m doing it again, aren’t I.”

Akaashi stared on before he remembered how to speak, and how it is customary to do so when spoken to.

“Doing what?” It was barely above a whisper. More of wisp of breath.

Bokuto’s hands dropped. “Making you uncomfortable.” He tucked his arms against his chest, as if sealing them away. “Making your face look like that.”

“Like what?"

“Like you wanna hide somewhere.”

They were quiet. The room was quiet. Akaashi truly could think of nothing to say. 

11037

Finally Bokuto looked up. “Akaashi, can I kiss you?” 

Eyes soft, words even softer. He looked a little...scared. As if he were afraid of interpreting Akaashi’s actions wrong.

Akaashi didn’t think about Bokuto’s feelings for the girl he mentioned in the locker room. Nor did he think about if Bokuto has always acted like this with him and he never realized. He ignored every worry flying through his head that usually sent him into a panic, and took this chance without a thought.

He nodded quickly, his breathing coming out faster, never looking away from Bokuto’s eyes. The black pools over spilled into the gold. Bokuto’s hands still gripped Akaashi’s hand, though now he pulled it close as their lips touched.

It sounded like they both stopped breathing for a moment, not letting anything distract from this. No press, no pull, just lips against each other. Akaashi’s breath hitched when he felt Bokuto’s hands tremble a bit. It felt....like true bliss knowing he wasn’t the only one overwhelmed. Or if not that, at least feeling something from this.

Akaashi’s hand broke free to touch Bokuto’s cheek, shivering when two arms pulled him closer. It was a bit uncomfortable sitting down, so Bokuto pulled them to their knees, Akaashi happily agreeing silently with his plan.

Their chests were pressed together, their hearts thudding against each other. Akaashi felt hot, hot, so hot, he didn’t know what to do. A part of him was scared and didn’t know how to handle what was happening, wanting to take a step back and reevaluate the situation.

But the rest? Wanted to run his fingers through Bokuto’s hair and get him impossibly closer. Wanted to topple onto the floor and pull Bokuto on top. Wanted the moment to stop being so new already so they could properly enjoy it. His hand drifted from his cheek to his shoulder.

Despite all that, Akaashi felt too scared to try anything. He needed Bokuto to lead this, but would he even be up for that? This was all really unfamiliar territory for them, he couldn’t imagine himself in his shoes, having to take control of this. Should he-

In a moment, Bokuto separates their lips, resting his forehead against Akaashi’s breathing heavily. Akaashi wanted to melt. 

“Hey.” He rasped. “How you feelin’?”

What?

He blinked his eyes opened. Bokuto looked down at him with half-lidded eyes. So close to him. Akaashi’s knees were starting to hurt, but he refused to break away all the places they were touching.

Akaashi couldn’t speak, he realized, so he hummed instead.

“Yeah me too.” Bokuto whispered. He leaned back a bit to kiss Akaashi’s forehead. Then his cheek. Then his-

Neck, his neck, his neck. This was a lot, he couldn’t keep up. He knew he had to bite down on his cheek or he would make a noise he would regret, but oh gods that was a good spot-

“I don’t want you to get in your head too much right now..” he heard rumble against his neck. “Tell me the second you feel weird, and I’ll stop.”

Suddenly his voice worked. The affection and gratitude and safety, too many emotions bubbled out. His heart still clogged his throat, so he worried he would sound a little off, but he had to make some noise or his chest would explode with all this excitement.

“..thanks.” He said with labored breath. He wanted to say something else, something sexy or whatever that would make Bokuto not regret kissing someone with such bad anxiety.

Bokuto left little kisses up his neck before reaching his willing lips again. This time, he had tilted his head, a warm hand coming up from Akaashi’s back to cradle his head, holding him close. Like he was something precious.

Akaashi’s eyes were rolling under his scrunched eyelids. He didn’t know what counted as good kissing obviously, but his knees felt like they would give out at any second. He felt like he hadn’t eaten all day, and now his blood sugar was acting up. Everything hot and shaky and-

Well that’s a weird metaphor actually, nevermind.

Bokuto was moving his lips against him, any hesitation gone. Akaashi tried to meet his movements, learning quickly that he had to sit down or something.

His fingers crawled into the tight space between their chests, pushing just a bit on Bokuto to sit down.

Briefly breaking their lips Bokuto fell back in the ground and pulled Akaashi’s legs on either side of him. 

Then, like a whistle blew, the gentility of the moment was thrown into the wind.

Akaashi was straddling him at this point. That was absolutely wild, considering that he thought about this.... a lot. Bokuto’s hands moved up and down his outer thighs, curving them in the back.

He really couldn’t stop the little buck his hips did when Bokuto’s hands briefly touched his ass. His hands slid up to his hair (finally) carding his fingers through and feeling how thick it was. How surprisingly soft and fluffy it was.

For a moment he thought about how they looked. Two teens in the dark making out, one in the others lap. It was a scene he never thought he would actually experience, nonetheless with him. 

Bokuto’s face was so close to him. He figured he could probably feel his long lashes if he moved his head. He could also probably trace his fingers over his cheeks and jaw, feel the sharp cuts in angles. Feel how warm his cheeks are. 

“Kaashi” he breathed hotly against his lips. Akaashi’s lips parted, as if to breathe in his air. He was panting at this point. Both of them were, but he feared he would hyperventilate if he couldn’t control himself. 

“Hnn?” He managed, his lips tingling. He found himself leaning forward to chase Bokuto’s lips, stopping when hands squeezed gently on his thighs.

“I’m...” Akaashi leaned forward still, their lips barely touching, their noses brushing together, his vision dark from the room. Just their panting hot breaths fanning eachother’s lips.

Bokuto gulped. “I’m hard, Kaashi.” He whispered. 

His eyes widened, breath hitching. Oh? 

An involuntary but curious twitch of his hips gave him the glorious pleasure of feeling a large bump against him.

Oh

His own cock throbbed. 

“Mm?” He tried to make it sound questioning, but it ended up escaping as something whorish. He sounded needy. Because he was needy.

Knowing that he made Bokuto, Bokuto, the man of his desires and fantasies, aroused and hard and so shy, so cute about it...ah, this is truly dangerous. 

He has never felt this desperate for touch before, or at least not outside of his room. In his bed, alone, under the comforter, in the dark. It was like a thick hormone induced fog coated his lungs and brain. He couldn’t think.

The part of himself he had been pushing back all evening said that it was too soon to do anything else right now. But Akaashi was pining for more. His mind was geared for one thing and one thing only now.

He had wanted this for almost three years, they were best friends, why wait any more? He knew him, he trusted him, and honestly? Bokuto could do whatever he wanted to him, he’d be completely down for it. 

Akaashi tried once more to connect the burning inch between their lips again, but Bokuto pulled back, much to his despair. He buried his head in Akaashi’s neck instead, his breath sending goosebumps over him with every pant for air.

“Kaashi, we should stop.”

It was like a splash of cold water.

Bokuto squeezed his thighs again. “For now, I mean. We should stop.”

In his hazy brain, Akaashi felt more inclined to cry and beg for Bokuto to touch him more, don’t stop, don’t leave him, please touch him, please don’t leave-

But as always, he wouldn’t let himself. He just closed his eyes to steady his breathing, running his fingers through Bokuto’s hair as a way to lull him from his stupor.

He’s not leaving you. You two will do this again. He won’t stop talking to you. He likes you, obviously. He isn’t leaving you. He isn’t.

“Do-“ he hesitated. “Do you regret this?” He sounded pathetic. Meek and scared.

Though, he dreaded the answer more than death, not to be dramatic. 

Bokuto came from his neck, looking at him with a determined shock. He searched Akaashi’s face for something, before his hand came up to his cheek.

“Of course not.” He said gently. Smiling softly. Akaashi’s heart pounded. 

He couldn’t tell if he was being honest or not. Giving a true confession right now wouldn’t be smart, not when Bokuto’s intentions were still unclear.

Bokuto planted a small, gentle kiss on Akaashi’s lips, then hugged him tight. Solid and warm, familiar, like a home. 

“I...think it’s just a little...Y’know...” Bokuto swallowed again. “Soon...?” 

Ah yea, he was probably right. 

As frustrating as it was to Akaashi, who had been ready for almost two years to give his whole heart and body up to him, Bokuto definitely isn’t obligated to do anything he’s not comfortable with.

Bokuto had gotten up as well, clearing his throat and pulling his hoodie over his front. Akaashi blinked.

Well...despite his understanding, he couldn’t help but wonder if Bokuto truly felt like he did right now.

He couldn’t help but wonder if the months leading up to this, the weird behavior and pointed questions, were because some way or another he found out about Akaashi’s feelings and, with a natural curiosity, decided to take advantage of that...?

After thinking this, Akaashi internally scolded himself. He shouldn’t be so pessimistic about this, shouldn’t project theories. Bokuto isn’t cruel. Really, Akaashi knew he wasn’t capable of intentionally hurting or causing pain to anyone.

Bokuto cleared his throat. “Um...” he looked like he wanted to rub the back of his neck, but remembered his primary goal for covering his excitement under the hoodie. “...You don’t...you don’t regret this either...” he locked eyes with Akaashi, rocking on his feet. “...right...?”

Akaashi couldn’t stop the genuine response he gave if he tried. “No. I liked it very much..” A thought briefly crossed his mind that he shouldn’t be so polite, nor so honest..

Bokuto’s expression brightened in seconds. “Oh yea?” He forgot about his hands, walking forward to rest them on Akaashi’s hips. “I did too.” 

He felt a deep ache in himself, echoing in his ears and blurring his sight. He wanted nothing more than to scream out every noise he felt bubbling inside of him, brewing at a dangerous pace for the last couple hours (the last three years). 

He felt something rising in his throat, probably a nervous squeak of some sorts. But it halted when Bokuto leaned forward, giving him a kiss.

Akaashi’s lashes fluttered shut. Bokuto...he was a good kisser. It wasn’t just the feelings those lips gave Akaashi, his knees felt like giving out, like he needed to be held up lest he give out from the tingles being sent throughout his body. The way his wet lips moved, all confidence and intent in how they slid against him, it was so good. So...

They separated, a quiet, unified gasp shared in the small, sacred place between their lips. 

It was still dark, Akaashi’s loins were still hot and wanting, his desire was so hard to ignore, he really hoped Bokuto would either change his mind or leave so he can take care of himself. He knew he wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t pressure him, but oh how he wanted him. 

Hands squeezed his hips. Akaashi felt like dropping to his knees.

“This is...really hard.” He muttered. “I didn’t think it’d be like this...” fingertips traced delicately up Akaashi’s shivering spine. “I kinda don’t wanna stop touching you.”

“Then don’t.” He said quickly. Akaashi didn’t want to persuade him into doing something he wasn’t comfortable with, but when he said things like that, it felt like he had no choice. 

Bokuto quietly laughed, then leaned down, close to Akaashi’s ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps all over his body. “Worst part is...I think I know what you’re gonna do after I leave.”

Akaashi nodded helplessly, wordlessly. No point denying it. Blood rushed in his ears as he did, his cheeks stinging with blush.

Bokuto came back up to kiss him. Then, as if saying nothing at all, whispered “I’m doing it too when I get home.”

Akaashi’s eyes widened.

Before Akaashi could whimper or beg or moan or something in response, Bokuto planted a final kiss, then left. 

Akaashi brushed his fingers over his lips. Feeling the wetness there. His tongue darted out, hoping there was still a little bit of Bokuto left on them.

As soon as he heard the door close downstairs, before his brain could process or think too hard about tonight’s events, he jumped onto his bed, throwing off his clothes, collapsing into soft comforter.

His brain was more crowded with lust than ever before. The urge to express his pleasure as vocally as possible was not suppressed like usual. Instead he allowed breathy sighs and hitched breaths, some of them more drawn out. 

He imagined Bokuto was still here. Would he find his noises hot?

“Uhnnn-“ he moaned. Filthy sounds and dirty talk, that would really be up Bokuto’s ally. Fuck, he’d be so into it. He would really wanna hear how his powerful, eager hips could punch out every sob, wail, and scream that Akaashi has stifled inside. He would want Akaashi to just. Lose his mind.

His wrist was practically slamming down on his pelvis at this point. No stroke was fast enough. 

He threw his head back on his pillow. The muscles in his neck were tensed, his teeth were gritted, and this might’ve been the most frantic he had ever felt to get off. It was like his clouded and frenzied mind had been reduced to something primal.

He looked up at the ceiling like he was pleading for mercy “Yeah, yeah, yeah-“ he chanted to himself. He had heard it in porn before, and while he always questioned the legitimacy of it, it felt completely right to say. No sentence was needed, his neediness had been broken down to the bare minimal. 

It made him feel sexy, to hear his desperate cries. It made it hotter, and found that he really liked it when he let go like this.

His knees sporadically drew up and fell flat against the bed. He was getting close. It was going to feel...phenomenal. he can already tell. 

“Yea-there there...” he rambled, sounding pitiful. “Oh, fu ck” more things he heard in porn. More things he wanted Bokuto to hear him say.

His free hand fisted his hair, his body wild and writhing like a man possessed. Here it comes.

“I’m...fuck, I’m....c...!” In his head Bokuto is towering over his body and pounding ruthlessly into his good spot, breathlessly praising him, throwing his head back, letting it all go inside-

Like a riptide, his orgasm lashed all over his body. He vaguely felt his toes curling. He expected it to be a good one, but damn this was good. This was better than good. It was...

“Ohhhhhh....” he didn’t even mean for it to come out, but it slipped out of him like a prayer. Everything that had been building inside of him was spurting out of his cock, over his fist and onto his quivering tummy. 

His wrist moved slowly. The dark pleasure was becoming a sweet whisper. His eyes scrunched at the last wave, toes curling tight against the balls of his feet, mouth still lulled open.

Shocks made his whole body tremble. “Fuck.” He gasped. That was...something else.

The fog lifted. His muscles relaxed. Now what he wanted was for a warm body to drape itself on top of him, pressing every inch of their naked bodies together.

Speaking of which...wasn’t Bokuto going to do the same thing?

A tremor almost violent went through him at that thought. Oh, he really hoped he would feel as good as him. Thinking about Bokuto’s pleasure, how he could be touching himself...

He took a shaky breath. Yea, he should stop that train of thought. 

••••

The next day was the weekend. No school, no scheduled practice, and Akaashi was preparing for Bokuto to come over.

The night before, before Akaashi was drifting off into a fuzzy warm sleep, Bokuto texted him. And of course his adrenaline spiked him right awake for it.

Bokuto didn’t mention anything about...what he said he’d do. Akaashi had only pursed his lips, telling himself that he wasn’t disappointed by it.

He did mention however that he would like to come over the next day. And here they are.

After cleaning up a bit of the mess from last night, he sat on his bed and thought. They aren’t going to do anything like that when he gets there. There is no reason to get all weird. They’ll...probably kiss some more though...

Akaashi couldn’t help it. His chest filled with that golden light, overflowing and forcing a smile on his face. He hugged a pillow close to him, hiding his beaming face. He gets to kiss him again.

Bokuto texted him. He didn’t need to read it to go downstairs after seeing his name pop up.

Akaashi took a deep breath and opened the door, keeping his breathing and heartbeat as steady as possible, his mask of indifference equipped as always. 

Bokuto smiled. “Hi”

It was silent as they went upstairs. Not in an awkward way, more in a high tension anticipation sort of way. They wordlessly decided they should go upstairs immediately.

Akaashi’s heart was racing, and he felt his hands shaking from adrenaline. He wanted to kiss more. Gosh he wanted to kiss more. Butterflies in his stomach supplied the more probable outcome, that before they do that they’ll have to talk a bit. Frankly, he is very scared of how Bokuto is feeling towards this new side to their relationship.

They stepped inside his room. Akaashi closed the door and leaned on it, locking eyes with Bokuto who stood in front of him.

Bokuto cleared his throat. “So, uh, I like you. A lot. I need you to know that before anything...happens.”

Akaashi nodded, eyes wide, heart pumping, probably drumming against the door.

“I think you’re the greatest person ever.” Bokuto continued, his voice less shaky. “And I want to be with you. If you’re cool with that.” 

Akaashi felt like bursting, and only stared into those pretty eyes. A man in a trance. 

“Ok.” He said. As much as he hated how curt and silly it sounded, it was truly all he could manage to say through his constricted throat. 

Bokuto smiled. “Um..I...I wanna kiss you again.”

Akaashi leaned his head against the door, gazing at Bokuto with an intoxicating combination of pure love and lust swirling in his features. “Please” he whispered.

Bokuto walked forward.

Though that nervous mind of his kept nagging ‘why did he say he has a crush? Why has he been acting different? Is this some cruel joke?’

He didn’t know how voice it though. Bokuto’s determined and handsome face, owlish eyes trying to gauge a reaction, the confession still ringing in Akaashi’s whole body, he could help but feel tongue tied. 

He couldn’t say anything, he shouldn’t, what if Bokuto gets mad? No he would never get mad, he isn’t cruel or unfeeling, he is the warmest and kindest person he’s ever met, not an evil bone. He would never say something like this if it wasn’t true. Either way he shouldn’t s-

“Why did you tell me you liked someone else?”

His eyes widened as he realized it had spilled out without his permission.

Bokuto showed brief shock, then a soft, sad smile spread across his face.

“That...was a lie. I’m really sorry.”

Akaashi blinked, processed it, before saying softly “why would you do that?”

Bokuto looked ashamed. He looked at his feet before gulping and looking earnestly into Akaashi’s again. “It’s a dumb reason, and it doesn’t excuse toying with you like that.” 

As much as Akaashi wanted to move on, accept his apology that seemed very genuine, he felt like he should ask either way.

“I’m not mad, Bokuto-san.” He began to walk away from the door. “This has been a little confusing though, you know. I would like to know why.”

Bokuto laughed nervously. “Well...what if I said that a friend said I should?”

He stopped. “What?”

Bokuto’s eyes widened in panic, hands waving. “Ah, no! Not like that!” He said. “I asked for advice from him, and he said I should probably...um, say things. To see how you’d react. Be aloof, and stuff.”

Akaashi’s eyebrow twitched. “...you mean Kuroo-san?”

Owlish eyes blinked. “I’d rather not name any names. But. Um.”

Akaashi’s palms rubbed his eyes in frustration, irritation blossoming and covering his nervousness. “Of course.” He muttered.

Bokuto clapped his hands together, eyes scrunched. “I’m really sorry, it was wrong of me! Please forgive me.”

With a deep sigh, Akaashi smiled at him. This could have been avoided if he didn’t repress himself to the point of breaking. Not that it was his own fault, of course, but ugh.

“I forgive you.” He said. “Please do not try to test my reactions in the future, Bokuto-san.” He paused, a blush forming on his face. “...well, it’s not as if I haven’t done the same to you when you get in your moods.”

Bokuto seemed to disregard that last remark and beamed. “You’re so nice, Kaashi!” He tackled Akaashi in a big warm hug against the door. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, I’d be the worst probably.”

Akaashi thought back on all the times Bokuto has gone out of his way to care for him, to comfort him, to notice any mood changes. It was wild hearing that from him.

The irritation melted away with the warmth, the feeling of being pressed into a solid chest, strong yet gentle arms holding him...

A hot breath ruffled his hair. “I...don’t know if this will make it worse, but I asked him because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

Oh gosh.

Akaashi’s trembling arms slid up to grasp at his back. “Y-yeah?” He managed to say. 

Bokuto pulled back, looking at him. They were so close. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. You mean a lot to me, Akaashi.”

He was now being cornered into the door. His heart was beating out of his chest. Hearing that he meant something to Bokuto at all made his heart sing, kept from soaring under his cage of a body.

The mood had shifted. Akaashi was feeling it now.

“Kaashi. I wanna


End file.
